The elf moaned as she swallowed it all, her throat working, taking it in great, eager gulps.
Syd collapsed onto the cot, breathing hard, his gut wheezing like the bellows of a forge as he soaked in the afterglow of his orgasm. Ava lifted her lips from his cock, beaming up at him.
"How was that?"
"Y... you’re hired," Syd gasped.
"Really? Oh, thank you!" Ava chirped, throwing herself onto Syd, hugging him tightly.
Syd jolted at the sudden embrace, blinking rapidly. He realized what he’d just done, but looking down into the blonde’s shining eyes, he realized he didn’t care.
Let Miss Stroud say what she would. He was the manager, dammit! That had to mean something around here.
"When can I start?" Ava asked.
"Yes, Syd. When can she start?"
Syd jerked around so fast he nearly dumped Ava onto the floor.
A woman stood in the doorway. Tall, her pale figure like pure lust poured into female form. Her face was beautiful, her hair lustrous and dark as the night sky.
A corset threaded with lace and frills lifted firm breasts and accented shapely thighs and long legs. Her arms were crossed, her eyes lidded, lips painted black and lifted in amused mocking.
No matter how many times Syd looked at her, he felt the same heavy throb in his groin, his cock stiffening at the sight of the unreal beauty of the woman.
And yet, it was her eyes that drew the most attention. Sucked it in. To look at those eyes was to feel like you were the center of the universe. That she was looking only at you. On the stage, none could equal this pale beauty. Off it, none could escape it.
Reflexively, Syd clutched the gold amulet he wore. The others had given it to him along with the job at the Hot House.
He saw the woman’s eyes wander to it, her smirk widen, revealing pearly white teeth.
"M-Miss Stroud," Syd gasped. "Shouldn’t you be on stage?"
"I should be wherever I please whenever I please, Syd," Miss Stroud said, brushing him aside with a flick of her fingers.
He shrank back into the cushions of the bed as Miss Stroud turned her attention to Ava. Her smile grew.
Her eyes sparkled with dark delights. "I apologize, but Syd is mistaken. While you are beautiful enough and, hmm, perhaps talented enough, we are not hiring any dancers. There is simply no room on the payroll."
"R-r-right," interjected Syd, his will crumbling instantly in the face of Miss Stroud. "Right. Sorry, Ava. I er, made a mistake. There’s no, um, no... I can’t hire you."
Miss Stroud placed a hand on Syd’s shoulder to quiet him. Her attention was otherwise completely focused on Ava. Drinking in the elf’s loveliness. Seeming to consider her potential.
"Syd is merely our manager," Miss Stroud said. "I hire and coordinate with the dancers. I choose each of them personally. And there is no room for another. Particularly... a reporter from the Morning Wood."
Ava’s face reddened. "Um..."
Something flashed red in Miss Stroud’s eyes as the beautiful woman waved her fingers in front of Ava’s face.
"You will forget this," she said, her voice deep and reverberating. "You will not recall ever seeing me. You will stop harassing my club. If you ever write of the Hot House in your paper, it will be only to offer praise."
Ava blinked. She felt... something, but didn’t really register it.
For elves lived and breathed magic, and sorcery rarely had much of an effect on her kind.
She shook her head, but Miss Stroud had already turned sharply on her heels and began to walk out of the room.
Ava glanced over at Syd. The manager was swaying slightly back and forth where he sat, his eyes fixed on the rather lovely bottom of Miss Stroud as she walked to the door.
"Um, Miss Stroud," Ava called, rising from the cot.
"Hmmm?" Miss Stroud turned just as she reached the door. She arched one eyebrow and stared at Ava with mild puzzlement. "Yes?"
"Well, it’s just if I knew you were doing the hiring here at the Hot House I would have come straight to see you." Ava boldly approached the woman. "If I could just ask you a few questions about the Silver Griffon who was injured leaving your—"
Miss Stroud bared her teeth and let out a hiss of anger. Ava recoiled in surprise, but Miss Stroud mastered herself quickly.
She closed her eyes, pressing a finger to her temple as if to push something back. When she opened her eyes again, they were once more coy and smoky, but her smile was sharp as a dagger in the night.
"Of course, Ava," Miss Stroud said, pushing back into the room and brushing her lithe body against the elf as she passed. Her fingers dragged across Ava’s hip. "Forgive me. I was just... struck by inspiration."
"You were?" Ava said.
"Oh yes," Miss Stroud said, wrapping an arm around the elf, drawing her close.
Ava’s nostrils flared as she inhaled the pungent perfume that surrounded the pale woman. "Now then, the paladin? Well, I’m afraid that is beyond my control. Neither I nor anyone else who works for the Hot House had anything to do with what happened with Julian Sigmarten. What happens to one of our customers when they leave is no longer my responsibility."
Ava was surprised. So far as she knew, the name of the paladin had not been released.
On the other hand, Miss Stroud was so hot she could melt through an iron codpiece, so maybe Julian had been more well known at the club than she suspected.
Ava had a feeling no man could keep any secrets for long in the Hot House.
"Ah, well, I was just wondering if he was a frequent guest at your club," Ava said, taking a small notebook out from her purse.
"I wouldn’t know," Miss Stroud said. "Perhaps I saw him once or twice before, but he is not a high roller so I spend my time elsewhere."
"Could I talk to some of the girls who might have danced for him?"
"It’s difficult to say which of my girls danced for the paladin," Miss Stroud said.
"Um, right. But if I could talk to your girls, I could maybe figure out who did," Ava said. "If I could just speak with your girls."
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